


Olicity drabbles

by felicitysmoakisaqueen



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Olicity Drabbles, Team Arrow, olicity prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-03-19 07:08:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3600870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felicitysmoakisaqueen/pseuds/felicitysmoakisaqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Felicity's dreams when she learns Oliver is dead. (post 3x10)</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. Wedding vows

“Felicity” he began, sighing happily at the beautiful view he had in front of him.

“There is not a day that goes by where I regret meeting you. You brought light into my darkness from the very first day, and you never stopped. You were probably the most unexpected and happiest thing that has ever happen to me. You also are the only one that stood by me when no one else did, believed in me when no one else would. Not even me. Our lives are complicated and I honestly don’t know what the future holds for us but I do know two things: The first is that I love you, and loving you has been the easiest and purest thing I’ve ever done in my life. And the second is that I cannot wait any longer for you to be my wife, and to call you Mrs. Queen.”

Oliver lingered his thumb on the bride’s rosy cheek, wiping a lonely tear of happiness, and making her hold her breath for the thousandth time since they met. She straightened herself, holding his gaze while doing so.

“Oliver Queen” she breathed out, not hiding her wide smile.

“If someone had told me, when I first came to Starling City, that I would marry Oliver Queen, I would’ve laughed for hours. Except that, marrying you is the most serious thing that I’ve ever done. I mean, it’s not done yet, but…anyways.” She paused, gathering herself and pleading her brain and mouth to go easy on her on their special day. “You and I have come a long way and it hasn’t always been easy, but we made it through because that’s what we do: we make it through. We make it work because it’s worth it. I may not know how many days of this life I’ve spent loving you, but I do know two things: The first is that you are worth every battle we fight, every thrill you make me feel, and every breath I hold. And the second is that I couldn’t be proud to be call you my hero, my friend, and finally, tonight, my husband.”

John looked fondly at them, almost whispering that he thought this day would never come, but something made him quiet. Something among the love radiating from them and the honesty in their eyes. He breathed in, remembering this moment for the rest of his life. He watched Roy and Sara handing the rings respectively to the groom and the bride. He smiled, noticing Oliver's hands were shaking, and Felicity wasn't breathing as they were exchanging them. Then he said quietly but with confidence: “By the power vested in me, by the state of California, I now, pronounce you husband, and wife.”

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Oliver cupped Felicity’s cheek, reaching out to her, desperately wanting to feel her skin, to make this real. 

“I love you” she said, stepping on her tiptoes.

“I love you” he said, narrowing the gap between their mouths.


	2. Her dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity's dreams when she learns Oliver is dead. (post 3x10)

“It’s hard to be the one left behind.”

Felicity sighed. It was a fragile sigh mixed with all of her emotions. Sadness. Fear. Pain. Desperation. Pain again. 

It’s funny how you think hope will keep you alive. Hope destroys you because… what if you hoped for nothing? What if it was just you pushing away the pain? Like it was actually going to leave you alone… When you let the pain come to you after hoping, it hits you harder than it’d have in the first place. 

She was staring at Sara. She wouldn’t stop. It was like she was holding onto life. Her friend was alive, and well. But she was sad. There was so much sadness in her blue eyes it should have been difficult for Felicity to hold Sara’s gaze. 

The twice-dead blonde was standing in front of Felicity, who sat on the floor with her knees up to her chest. She stretched out her hand and waited for the other petite blonde to take it. When she did and when they were finally at eye level neither of them let their hands go. It was the only contact Felicity had had in days that she hadn’t pushed back. It didn’t hurt. Warmth course through her body and, for a second, she remembered how to breathe again. She was gasping for air but the air around her didn’t seem to be enough. 

When she was able to talk again, she started with a hesitant and low voice. 

“You know, there’s a reason why people who lose someone don’t use the word ‘dead’.”

She didn’t let go of Sara’s hand, and only broke their gaze to sit on her bedroom mattress. 

“When you lose someone you care about, this person’s not dead to you.” She continued with more assurance in her voice, but it was still rough from crying out all of her pain. Except that the pain was still there. “They can’t be dead. They’re just gone. Permanently.” She breathed out through her nose trying to keep her voice from trembling and breaking. “You know this is permanent but you will never accept death because death is too hard and death does not happen to you. It happens to strangers all around you, but you never… ever… feel like it might happen to you, one day.”

Sara squeezed her friend’s hand, trying to give her some comfort.

“It’s not easy to be left behind when you lose someone you love.” Felicity closed her eyes, letting the feeling sink in. “and God knows I love him…” she whispered to herself with her eyes still closed. Sara heard it, though… Of course she did, she’s Sara. ‘Gorgeous and invincible Sara’ as Felicity liked to call her. ‘Invincible’. ‘He was supposed to be invincible’ she thought.

“I know it’s not easy, and I know you love him. But it’s also hard to be the one leaving.”

Felicity flew her eyes open and a single tear rolled down her cheek, crashing on her bottom lip, slightly parted from her top one. It was the first time Sara had spoken. Her voice seemed damaged, just like the world around her.

Felicity hid a fake laugh while whipping off the tear off of her face in a rushed movement. 

“I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. You already know it...”

She focused on Sara, letting her eyes travel on her body, noticing the outfit she was wearing and the blood mark on her stomach. 

“… You’re just some part of my subconscious.”

Sara looked down at the arrows in her. Then she looked around. Everything was dark, and cold. It seemed like a nightmare. She held Felicity’s gaze and moved her hands to her shoulders. 

“What are you afraid of, Felicity?”

She waited before answering. But she wasn’t thinking about her answer. She knew what she was afraid of. God, she knew it way to well.

“Waking up.”


	3. Bratva

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt : Felicty is one of Oliver's friends from childhood who he's always loved. After he gets back from the island he's bravta and Felicity is in danger so he marries her to protect her. When the person finds her, she gets hurt pretty badly and he tells her how much he loves her and she loves him..

Oliver had come home after five years in hell. He’d returned damaged to his family and friends. That was the part they knew, what he’d told them. What he’d been through, what he had to do to survive, who he’d became… wasn’t the matter, and he liked it that way. Sure, he wasn’t comfortable with all the lies, but he knew it would keep his family, and the friends he still cared about, safe. 

Even before the island, Oliver had never been a sentimental kind of man. And when all the journalists described him as a playboy billionaire, he just thought that he had the bad luck to get caught the few times he’d bring a girl to the mansion. Really, he wasn’t that much into models, and parties, and drinking. Tommy definitely was that kind of guy, and he was like blood to the young Queen, so, what could he do? Anyways, if Oliver was into something before all the tragic events, it wasn’t a something, but a someONE. Felicity Smoak. Felicity was the third member of their pack, the smart and joyful one to compensate from the irresponsible Tommy and the brooding Oliver. But, like I said, Oliver had never been a sentimental kind of man, so whatever feeling he had for Felicity, it wasn’t love.   
Since he’d been back, he hadn’t spent much time with ‘busy IT Felicity’ – as she’d called herself –, so when he ran into her on a Friday night, in the Glades, he was more than confused. 

“Felicity? Wha… What are you doing here?” 

“Oliver…” she breathed. “I… I was just going home from work!”

“Felicity…” God, he loved how her name sounded on his lips! “Queen Consolidated isn’t exactly in the Glades, and you don’t live here, so, I’m going to ask the question one more time: What are you doing here?” Concerned was written all over his face, but his voice had sounded low, and dangerous. 

He closed his eyes, and blamed himself for letting his habits getting the best of him. When he opened them, she was looking right through him, like she always did, but her bottom lip was trembling. 

“Are you okay?” he said, reaching gently for her elbow.

She narrowed her eyes for less than a second and then responded with a small smile “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.”

Oliver was about to ask her what was really going on, but changed his mind. 

“Care to share a coffee with me then? We haven’t really catch up since I’ve been back.”

She nodded silently and they headed for the nearest coffee shop. 

***

It had started raining outside when Oliver decided to bring the subject back.

“Hey, is anything or anyone bothering you? You don’t feel like your usual self…”

“My usual self?” she laughed.

“Yes… I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re still gorgeous, but without the awkward babbling…” 

“I just miss it” he added after a beat. 

Her cheeks turned red, and again, she narrowed her eyes. She didn’t use to be this shy.

“Look, I know something’s wrong. You can tell me. You can trust me, Felicity.”

“I know I can Oliver! This isn’t me not wanting to tell you, this is me trying to make you understand that it’s better if you don’t know. This is me trying to protect you!”

She didn’t sound angry, but Oliver felt in his bones the desperation in her voice. She was about to leave when he grabbed her wrist before looking into her eyes. Blue meeting blue. 

“Is there anything I can do?” he whispered.

She took a deep breath, and answered, with her eyes closed, that she wished he could.

***

“You’re WHAT? … Actually, don’t answer that.”

Oliver shut his mouth with frustration. He was finally understanding why this was such a bad idea. But, this was also the only idea he’d come up to protect her. To make sure she was safe. Felicity hadn’t explained much what was the issue with the man she was in trouble with, but Oliver had commanded some his men to do some research about Zac Kosslyn, and had even sent 2 of them on the field to learn a little more. None of them had come back. 

“… about it. I’m soooo not doing this, Oliver. There is no freaking way I’m letting you do this. I am an independent woman and I will NOT accept that.”

Oliver realized that the petite blonde was still talking, and rambling about the deal he was offering her. 

“Felicity, you’re reacting as if I was offering you to be my EA!” he remarked.

“If only you had, Oliver Queen, IF ONLY. You should be regretting this, ‘cause I sure as hell am!” she shot back, with her fists clenched, and her ponytail flying as she walked by the desert mansion. 

“Okay, so, yeah, I am asking you to marry me, Oliver Queen, captain of the Russian mob, but it’s to protect you. And it’s purely platonic if that’s what you’re worrying about.”

“Of all the reasons why YOU shouldn’t ask ME to marry you, this is the reason you think I’m worrying?! You’re bratva, Oliver! BRATVA! And you’re like my best friend! And you’re a billionaire which means that there’re gonna be dozens of journalists at our wedding and… Oh my god, I can’t believe I just said our wedding!”

Oliver stopped her by putting his hand on her shoulder.

“Hey. We can do this. You will be safe, and that’s all that matters. It’s going to be fine.” 

“Promise me?”

She looked at him like he was the safest place on earth, but her gaze was also frightened as though she was fighting a war inside of her.   
Oliver let his hand fall on her elbow and brought her closer to him so he could linger his lips on the crown of her head, as a response. He could smell her cherry shampoo as she closed her eyes and leaned in, breathing him in. Oliver found himself closing his eyes too and not wanting to let go of her. 

***

Felicity Smoak became a Queen a month after that, during a quiet ceremony with only their close family and friends. Tommy was probably the only one that didn’t seem shocked by the announcement and both Felicity and Oliver thought about what it meant without daring saying anything out loud to one another. 

Soon after that, Felicity moved into Oliver’s apartment and was never left alone. She realized that Oliver was, indeed, a Bratva captain and that he did things that she didn’t dare think of. Yet, she knew, deep down, that he was still the good man she once knew. She understood that whatever happened to him had changed him in more ways than she could possibly imagine. She felt safe around him, she always had. 

Until one day, she wasn’t safe anymore. She was heading to her mini in the parking floor of Queen Consolidated. Her bodyguard, Roy Harper, had the habit to let her drive by herself while he drove a car right behind her. Because he had had an emergency, earlier in the afternoon, he was parked outside waiting for her, while Felicity’s mini was at its usual spot. 

The next thing she knew, there was blood, and screams, and soon she was suffocating. 

***

She woke up in the arms of John Diggle, Oliver’s bodyguard and a good friend of theirs. When he looked at her, his brow furrowed, she understood that something was wrong. When she tried to move, she realized she couldn’t, the ache was too much for her to take. She passed out half a second later. 

***

She, then, woke up, to the sound of a very worried Oliver. 

“Please, wake up. Please Felicity, don’t leave me…”

Her eyes were shut, but the warm that was coursing through her body made her feel more alive than ever. The heat was coming from her hand, tangled in both of Oliver’s hands. She tried so hard to open her eyes, or even to squeeze his hands, but she didn’t find the strength in her to do so.

***

 

When she eventually woke up for good, Oliver was still there, his forehead resting on her arm, and his hand linked to hers as if he didn’t want to let her go. 

She breathed slowly – but painfully – realizing that he was asleep, trying not to wake him. She felt the urge to move, her body aching from being still for so long. She tried to straighten, but failed miserably, and woke Oliver in the process. 

“Felicity” he breathed.

He seemed to be everywhere at the same time checking on her, but keeping her from breathing.

“Oliver” she gasped. “I need … air.” 

Oliver apologised after stepping back to give her some space. Her voice was raw and her body was probably sore but she was alive and conscious, and that was all that Oliver needed. Well, that and telling her how much he loved her. 

“I love you”

Felicity blinked at the sound his words, and Oliver smiled, realizing that it was the easiest thing he’d done in years. He could tell her all night and all day because it sounded just as good as her name on his lips. 

“You… what?” she whispered, hands shaking.

“I love you” he repeated, his smile not fading away.

“I actually heard it the very first time, but I have to admit that I really like hearing you say that you love me…”

“Felicity Smoak Queen, you’re remarkable.” He stated, grabbing her hand and playing with her wedding band on her left hand.

“Thank you for remarking on it.”

She released a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding and a content sigh because she just couldn’t keep her eyes off of his.


	4. Family matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked : Oliver and Felicity telling Roy off for being reckless somehow. Like mommy and daddy do.

“ROY” Oliver shouted with his modulator still on “You do not get to do this, okay? You don’t get to make a decision like that without talking to me! Do you realize you could’ve been killed?”

Felicity was hearing them over the coms, and even though the cameras were out, she could perfectly picture her boys yelling at each other. Oliver’s body was probably angled towards Roy, with his bow on his left hand and his right hand by his side, his fingers twitching nervously. 

“Well, I didn’t right? So can we just let go now?” Roy tried, his voice unsteady.

“No we can’t, because this time you didn’t die, but next time, you might! It is not the first time you pull something like that without warning anyone!”

His voice was so harsh, Felicity bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes waiting for Oliver to realize it. The moment he did, he turned off the modulator. 

“You really need to stop acting like you’re invincible, because you’re not.” He sighed.

“Well, you’re not invincible either, and most of the time you act like you have a death wish and nobody tells you anything.” Roy stated.

“Someone has to take initiatives here. And when I do, I make sure Felicity has my back!”

“Hey, don’t bring mom into this!” Roy shouts back.

“Yes. Don’t bring me into this. Now, you boys behave and come home so we can talk about this.” Felicity states, probably startling the two men who had forgotten about her ‘presence’.

***

When they both went down the stairs, Felicity spun her chair and faced a very angry Roy and an irritated Oliver. While the man wearing green stopped by the table massaging his temples, Roy made his way until the back of the foundry until Felicity stopped him.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?”

Roy stilled himself and huffed a fake laugh. He spun to face Felicity.

“No… You don’t know because the coms were off, but I got another ‘father-son’ speech during the ride back, so I’m done.”

“Well, now you get to hear it from me. Sit down.”

Roy took Felicity’s spot on her chair, while she was standing a few feet away from him. 

“The thing is Roy, I don’t want to have to stitch you up okay? And if you keep taking reckless decisions like the one you took tonight, you’re going to end on that table, just like Oliver did so many times. Just like you already did. Just like Sara did…”

The last sentence was said almost as a whisper. It was still too hard to talk about it out loud. She blinked as though she wanted to erase those images from her mind.

“Nobody wants that, am I wrong?” she asked, her gaze moving from Roy to Oliver. They were both quiet, their chin down and eyes narrowed. Felicity found herself smiling fondly at them. She had grown so close to her men that they were family to her. The idea of losing either of them made her go insane. 

“Yeah, I know, me too…” Roy whispered. 

“I did it again huh?” she said to herself but Oliver answered with a yes, almost like he knew what she was thinking. She released a sigh, and automatically reached for him when she saw him move to her direction. As soon as her hand felt his skin, she relaxed. 

They stayed in the foudry for an hour after that, sharing parts of their lives with a glass of vodka.

“To family” Roy hesitated.

“To family” Oliver confirmed, raising his glass, and tilting his head.

“To family” Felicity said with conviction.


	5. Teachers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Funstory asked : Olicity AU Teachers + plate game

“Okay class” Oliver started waiting for the kids to calm down and listen to him.

“Remember, today we are spending the afternoon with Ms Smoak’s class.”

They all cheered, and, if he was completely honest, he could understand. Felicity Smoak was a very pleasant person. 

“Why don’t you call her Felicity? Felicity is better than Ms Smoak, sounds like it’s more fun. Sounds like she’s the sun.” Laura asked, with her head tilted on the side, and the cutest smile on her face.  
“Because we’re adults, Laura, and we respect each other.” He said, kneeling in front of the kid, and talking to her with his softest voice. 

“I bet she calls you Oliver!” she grinned.

“Yeah? Well, let’s see that!” he said a little louder so the rest of class could understand it was time to go. They stood up in excitement, and began to make their way to the exit door.

“Hey, by the way, remember to behave! I’m counting on you!” he said, trying to cover the noise, but half of the kids were already on the other side of the corridor, waiting for Felicity to open the door. Oliver sighed.

***

“Okay kids, so today, we’re working on a project with Oliver’s class, remember? Who would like to tell me what’s the name of the project again?”

Various hands were up in excitement and Felicity nodded to Rachel, on the middle of the class.

“Know your mates” she stated with confidence.

“Exactly. So they should be here any minute now, but I want you to show the best of yourself, huh? How about we show Oliver who has the best class ever?” she winked to the kids, and they giggled. 

Felicity noticed Tommy with his raised hand on the back of class. She was surprised because Tommy wasn’t the kind of child to ask anything in front of everyone. 

“Yes Tommy?”

“Would you play with us?” he asked, his voice just loud enough so she could hear it across the room. 

“Hum… And how would you know it’s a game, mister Tommy?” 

“I saw the paper on your desk and I saw the plate in the big bag you usually use for candies.” He admitted, his voice even quieter than before. 

Felicity smiled fondly at him: “yes, I will play with you. And if Oliver wants to join us, he will!”

“Oh, if we’re playing the plate game, HE WILL” John said, turned to his comrades and smiling playfully at them. They all laughed. Felicity didn’t understand but forgot about it as soon as the she heard a knock on the door.

***

They were all sat together in a large circle around the plate. Felicity tried to silence everyone.

“So, again, every one of you gets to turn the plate after saying the name of another one of you. Name a person you feel like you don’t know well enough, not one of your friends, okay? The person you named has to stop the plate before it stops it-self. If so, you ask a question to the other person. If not, you guys share a kiss on the cheek. Got it?” she asked with enthusiasm.

Oliver answered the kids with a “Let’s go then!”.

***

“Oliver, that’s your turn” stated Emily, right on his left side. She had her chin raised to look at him, and had a playful smile on her lips. 

“Oh no…, I don’t play” he laughed.

“Yes you do!” Felicity assured him “We all do, that’s the condition!” 

Oliver lost himself in Felicity’s gaze a little too long. 

“Okay then”

He started to stand up to reach for the plate and noticed Laura climbing onto Felicity’s lap. He smiled, because he knew exactly what his girl was doing. 

“’Licity, would you tell me a story?” she asked with puppy eyes.

Oliver reached the plate.

“Now?! Come on, Laura, we’re all playing together…”

Oliver turned the plate naming “Felicity” with a grin.

Except Felicity was distracted by the cute Laura on her lap, and her mind heard Oliver’s voice a few seconds later. 

“What…?” Her eyes travelled back between Oliver, the plate and Laura, who sat comfortably in her lap. She started panicking, trying to get Laura off of her lap without startling her. When Laura eventually let go of Felicity, the plate had stop spinning. 

Oliver was kneeling in front of the plate, and so was Felicity. They were looking at each other deeply expressing a thousand of words, but none of them were thought out loud. The kids all but yelled and cheered, clapping hands and waiting for the teachers to kiss. Felicity realized then, that they were all screaming “ON THE MOUTH” repeatedly and at unison. 

Felicity pulled away from Oliver’s gravity, standing up, and trying to calm the children.

“No, this is not happening kids. Rules are the same for everybody!”

Oliver stoop up too. The kids wouldn’t shut up. Felicity looked back to Oliver, asking for help, but she found him looking at her with all the delicacy and lust of the world, almost asking for permission to come anywhere near her. 

She found herself nodding and Oliver reached her hand. His other hand found its place half-way between her cheek and neck. She leaned on the touch, seeking for more heat radiating from his body. Oliver kissed her tenderly and pulled apart when he felt like they both wanted more. The silence around them was deafening but they didn’t care. Lost in her gaze Oliver finally said: “I really like these common projects.”


	6. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on this post: http://treehillvigilante.tumblr.com/post/117375116705/oliver-queens-family  
> And also super super (like really super) quick, it was more a coping mechanism than anything else.

Oliver sighed at the view in front of him. 

They all seemed at ease and relaxed. His sister and the love of his life were sharing embarassing moments about Oliver’s childhood, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care because the light in their eyes was brighter than the stars. He didn’t care because it all felt right. John had his back to Oliver, but the grin on his face while watching his daughter told him more than he needed to know. The laugh escaping Lyla was only a confirmation of the happiness shining in her eyes. His lips couldn’t help but mirror the smile on Felicity’s face. 

And as Roy approached from behind him, stilling himself right beside Oliver, elbow meeting elbow, it all felt right. The time, the space, the people around him. 

“So this is what home feels like, huh?” Roy wondered, his happiness radiating from his voice. 

It felt as though the universe was offering Oliver a glimpse of what life could be. And suddenly it felt all worth living.

“This is what family feels like” he sighed happily. “Now come on” he murmured, elbowing Roy. His gaze crossed his wife’s as he advanced towards the beam she was diffusing. He sat, never losing her eyes from his sight and kissed her forehead, embrassing a life he had never known he wanted.


	7. Damian Darhk vs Felicity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked: Olicity with Damian Darhk! Oliver being proud of his wifey when she stands up to the villain. :)

Felicity was standing still, feet grounded. She never stood still. Felicity was always moving, pacing around the lair – waiting for her boys to come back, wandering in her living room while explaining to Oliver why they should definitely choose white over grey to paint the walls, perambulating in her new office – frowning and talking to herself in the cutest ways. The point is: Felicity never stood still, but this time she did. That’s when Oliver understood something was wrong (other than ‘Damian Darhk being in town’-wrong and ‘Felicity being on the field’-wrong). 

If he’d just read surprise on her face, it was gone the next second, replaced by her usual steadfast posture and determined gaze. She clenched her fists, clearly having a hard time staying calm. The blond seemed vengeful and Oliver couldn’t help but notice the resemblance with the way the same woman stood in front of Ra’s a few months earlier (or was it a lifetime ago?), when she thought she could protect him.

That’s when it hit him. Felicity was shielding him from Damian Darhk. She had moved, now standing between the two men, while Oliver lowered his bow, disorientation written all over his features. 

“Lower your weapon” he heard her demand in what he knew was her loud voice.

The man obeyed, never leaving Felicity’s gaze. Everything in Oliver was telling him to shoot an arrow straight to his chest, just to wipe off the sick look in his crinkly blue eyes. 

“I want all your weapons on the ground.” She growled, breaking the icy silence. 

When the request was filled (leaving what was the equivalent of half of their arsenal on the concrete of the rooftop they were standing on), Oliver looked up to Felicity, searching for any indication in her behaviour that might give him some direction to follow. (He doesn’t know when it all changed, when Felicity became in charge, and he stopped thinking about questioning her choices. Somehow she was always right. Somehow she was always their guidance. Somehow she ended up the leader, the fiercest of them all, and somehow he couldn’t be more proud.) He found her in the same posture, feet anchored – distanced from one another, chin up, and arms to her sides. There was still a threat, something bigger than all the weapons the man was hiding – behind his back, in his cargo pants’ pockets, on the inside of his right ankle, and so on and so forth…

“I must admit, I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

That’s when Oliver heard his voice for the first time. It was raucous and matched his looks. 

Then he realized the man wasn’t talking to him, to the Green Arrow persona – really he should’ve seen it coming, there was no way a man capable of defeating Ra’s and creating his own organization wouldn’t be expecting him to be here –, but to the woman, still standing in front of him.

Less than a second later, something on Oliver’s features changed, realization hitting him.

They were familiar. He didn’t think about the how and focused on the mirrored change on Darhk’s face. 

“Oh?” 

He seemed bothered. Quickly, he swallowed a laugh.

“You keep surprising me sweetheart, I thought you would have told him by now.” He teased her, stepping towards her. Oliver mimicked his actions.

“There are obviously a lot of things you don’t know about me.” Felicity answered back, matter-of-factly. 

“But you and I share a brain and I know how you think. I’m sure you saw me coming from miles away.” 

His hands were now on his pants’ pockets. His head was tilted in genuine curiosity while he continued to advance towards Felicity, who didn’t bat an eye. With each step Darhk took, Oliver’s heart beat faster. It only steadied when he felt her hand slipping in his, squeezing in reassurance, and making him realise that his chest was so close to her back that he could actually feel her calm heartbeat through their bodies. (That’s also something he doesn’t understand. He had never felt linked to anyone the way he did with her. Her air was his, her skin was glue to his hands, her eyes, the Mona Lisa to any art aficionado. At some point, her body became an extension of his, her soul a part of him, and her smile his reason to live.)

“The question is, why didn’t you tell him?” 

The man’s gaze finally left Felicity’s eyes, and some weight was removed from Oliver’s chest. The satisfaction didn’t last long, though. His intense blue eyes fixing Oliver, who was now able to see his tanned and calloused skin.

“Why didn’t you tell him that I’m your father?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is a quick follow up asked by the same adorable anon and by other amazing people, hope you'll like it.


	8. Damian Darhk vs Felicity (pt.2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick follow-up to the last drabble!  
> Anon asked: May I request an add on to it? Maybe Oliver's reaction afterwards.

It all happened so fast. Oliver’s mind barely had the time to register the words Damian had just spoke before he was gone. He hadn’t vanished in some smoke cloud like they had seen before. He hadn’t jumped from the rooftop. He’d just walked calmly to the exit door, his back to the two people, two statues shielding one another, not daring moving, or maybe just not able to, even if they wanted to. Oliver shivered, feeling Darhk’s gaze on the back of his neck. When the creaking sound of the door closing ended in a barely audible bump, the feeling remained. 

The night was oddly silent, or maybe it was just a reflection of Oliver’s brain. All he could feel was the wind, cold on his stubble. All he could hear was Felicity’s indrawn breath. All he could see was… well, nothing. His eyes closed, he tried to erase the last few minutes from his memory but, somehow, what seemed to be settling on the back of his eyes was the man’s wide blue eyes. (Wide eyes that he knew all too well. Blue eyes that were the first thing he sought, waking up in the morning. Most of the time his fingers dwelled for a little longer than needed on her flesh, drawing patterns on her pale skin as he brushed way blond locks, breaking the contact between his ocean blue eyes and hers.) As he still didn’t dare to shift position, he felt her body relaxing slightly, detaching itself from his and suddenly he felt everything again. The cold, the buzzing in his brain whenever she was far away, his heart hammering in his chest at the now obvious truth bomb Darhk had dropped on them. Or maybe just on him.

His eyes were still shut when she pleaded breathlessly “Oliver…”

He rose his right hand, stopping her. It turned into fist of frustration before his hand went to grab the back of his head. He bit his bottom lip and twisted his eyes behind his eyelids as he started pacing. Felicity noticed his left thumb playing with his index. (Of all his usual mimics, it was her favourite. Not because of what came after but because of everything it meant. Yes, Oliver was struggling. Yes, his nervous hand gesture was the only usual and visible sign of vulnerability, but maybe that’s why she loved it that much. Oliver battled every day to keep his city and the ones he loved safe, not allowing himself to show fragility, and this… this unconscious display of weakness was the sign he would always keep trying. Oliver was struggling, but he would always keep fighting and trying.)

“Oliver” she tried again, her throat tight and dry.

When he finally allowed her to look into his eyes, to look through him, she was expecting to read betrayal and doubt. She swallowed when the only thing she could feel was love and safeness. 

“Aren’t you mad?” she gasped, taking a step towards him.

“Oh I was” he disagreed, and blame overwhelmed her, her eyes leaving his, not knowing where to settle. 

As she started feeling her eyelids burn and the bridge of her nose tightening, Oliver framed her face with his right hand. She automatically leaned on it. 

“… for a second” he finished, his voice sweet and reassuring. “Look, we all have our secrets, some bigger than others.”

She found herself gazing into his eyes and opening her mouth to speak words she was sure wouldn’t make any sense, but Oliver’s thumb came to silence her, brushing over her lower lip. Felicity closed her eyes, frowning as she was aching for more contact. Her left hand grabbed his wrist, her thumb rubbing circles on his pulse point. 

“One of the things I love the most about you is that you never pushed me. You never forced me into telling you anything that I didn’t feel ready to share. You waited, and listened when the time came. And I am thankful for that.” He whispered.

She opened her eyes, finding him lingering on her.

“So I’ll wait.” He continued. “I’ll wait for you to be ready. I’ll wait for you to tell me everything I need to know to stop him. I’ll wait for you to explain to me everything because you need to or just want to.”

Oliver got lost on the intense love that her eyes, framed behind her glasses, expressed. He tucked, with his free hand, a string of her hair – flying because of the cold breeze – behind her ear. She smiled at the affective gesture but when it turned into an apprehensive sight, Oliver’s heart ached.

“Hey, we’ll stop him, just like we always do.” He murmured. 

“Together” she breathed, after a beat.

“Always” he assured.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt: not established Olicity. Someone makes a comment of how hot F is and he's like " don't u dare talk about her like that" and then describes all the things he loves about her and how she should be loved. F hears that ;) The end and the context is like you prefer :). And the guy can be like "hey man you're a one-night-stand too" to Oliver. In fact what i want is O standing up for F but also for himself, smtg that shows how he has evolved as a person

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during hiatus between season 2 and 3

When Oliver stepped into the immense ballroom, taking an indrawn breath, gazing to the ceiling and praying to whatever god was up there to give him the strength to do this, he realized that he couldn’t remember the last time he had to do this, alone (actually, “alone” only meant without Felicity; without the best part of him. She often argued about this, claiming that the best part of him was already in him. Overwhelmed by the intensity of her gaze while she had muttered so, he’d narrowed his eyes, thinking for a second that it might be true – “a second”, being the key word here). But really, when you think about it, it was all his fault. Oliver had had an argument with Felicity earlier that week about him not doing much to get the company back (as much as she enjoyed sitting in her sofa with him all day, a bottle of red wine half-way drunk on the table where laid their feet, marathon-ing doctor who, it was definitely not her definition of “we’ll figure it out”). Had followed hissed comments and offensive assertions that had Felicity storming out of the lair in a black mood.

Oliver shifted his weight on his other foot, his hands coming to close his jacket. He breathed deeply, another time, gathering his thoughts. When he was about to make his way towards the business men and women attending the party, he felt a strong pat on his shoulder, followed by his best friend’s voice.

“You good man?” John’s voice was inquiring and showed concern.

Oliver’s gaze followed the sound and his body shifted towards his friend. His head wobbled and he pursed his lips before answering.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” 

John came out with a horse laugh that made his friend raise his eyebrow. Oliver tilted his head to the side, glaring. 

“Whatever” Digg decided with his usual my-best-friend-is-stupid-and-should-get-his-head-out-of-his-ass tone. 

They both started to walk on the black carpet, Digg following Oliver’s lead – really just because of “body-guard” reasons. 

An hour into the gathering, Oliver found himself crossing Daniel Gray’s gaze.

“Oliver! Long time no see!” the board member of QC greeted as he crawled out of the crowd.

John mumbled “really, you’re on a first name basis with this guy?” behind Oliver’s ear causing him to cough a laugh. He then tried his best to put up a good figure, offering the other man his hand.  
“Daniel Gray” Oliver stated with his CEO voice and a polite smile on his lips. “It’s nice to see you.”

“Likewise! What a surprise, though, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you after… well…you know…” still shaking Oliver’s hand, he brought his other one to his shoulder bringing him closer and then murmuring “after you lost the company.”

“It is no secret that I got played and lost it, and I really hope it’s no secret to you all that I intend on winning it back.” Oliver assured, still wearing a courteous smile. 

Finally letting go of the grip Daniel had on Oliver, he countered: 

“I can’t really blame you for being played, though. Isabel Rochev was one beautiful woman. So is your former EA, by the way. Miss Smoak, am I right?” he wondered, not really holding his breath for a confirmation on the name.

John saw Oliver tensing the second her name was mentioned but the recently-ex-billionaire nodded nonetheless. 

“I mean, I knew you had great tastes in women back in the day, but I must say I was hoping those 5 years away had changed that. You and Merlyn didn’t really leave us much to play with.” He continued, winking playfully.

Oliver’s jaw clenched. 

“Anyways, I’m searching for an assistant and Miss Smoak seemed like the perfect match for me in those tight and short dresses. Is she available?”

Oliver glared for a few seconds, his smile leaving his features. After a few beats, he started talking.

“I’m sorry” he breathed, his gaze living the other man for a beat before it settled back on him, “for a second I thought you were asking me if Miss Smoak was available for an assistant job, which is utterly ridiculous considering how over-qualified she was at being an EA.”

Before the board member could protest, Oliver continued, his voice going lower and rougher with every word he spoke, the threat clearly expressed.

“And it also seemed as though you judged Miss Smoak’s qualifications by her looks.” He paused. “I will not begin to tell you how inappropriate of you it is.”

He then spoke with a fake light voice, expressing with his eyes what he was not able (“allowed” probably being a best fit in this circumstances) to express with his hands:

“Now, I apologize if I got it wrong, would you mind repeating what is it you were looking for?” 

Daniel swallowed, clearly uncomfortable. John imagined his throat to be dry and his hands to be sweating. The poor man really had no idea what kind of mistake he made when he mentioned Felicity.  
Felicity, who was standing in the shadows behind the three man, none of them noticing her in her dark green dress, covering her skin from shoulders to ankle, showing a beautiful cleavage and modelling her curves with elegance. 

Daniel swallowed again, and then tried:

“Come on, I know you’re one to combine work with pleasure – and definitely with more pleasure than work – so don’t tell me you’ve never enjoyed a night with her.” 

Oliver took a step closer, the height gap more noticeable and intimidating for Gray. Felicity mirrored his actions, ready to stop Oliver to go Arrow-y on the douche. She noticed Oliver’s hand moving and tightening around Daniel’s bicep. When she was about to make her presence known, he growled.

“I suggest you think before you speak Mr Gray. Think about how inconvenient it would be for you to assume, even for the slightest second, that you could talk about Miss Smoak the way you did when the lady is the most strong and determined woman I’ve ever met; when she outsmarts everyone in this room and could make you feel like you’re the worst dickhead on this planet or like you’re worthy of all the love in this universe with just her eyes.” His breath was laboured and the words he roared were sharper than knifes. “Think about how problematic it would be for you to presume that you know me when, in fact, all you have is this idea of Oliver Queen, a long gone boy who returned home very different.” 

When he breathed deeply, ready to go on with the threats, he smelled her fruity perfume before he could hear her soft voice, a well-mannered smile audible.

“And, finally, how awkward would this be if you’d drawn more attention on you two than you already have, huh?” she tried, her eyes traveling from Oliver to Daniel, her left hand lingering on Oliver’s right elbow, waiting for the warmth to sink in. 

Oliver blinked and his features softened as if a switch had been shifted. Daniel tried to backtrack but he stopped when Felicity extended her right hand, never leaving Oliver with her other one.  
“Felicity Smoak. I believe you two were talking about me.”

The man cleared his throat, taking her hand.

“Daniel Gray, and yes, Oliver speaks very highly of you.” He stated, trying to enlighten the mood.

“He should, I saved his ass more than once.” She joked (although Oliver, John and her, knew she wasn’t). 

He laughed politely and excused himself, crawling back into the multitude. Felicity let her gaze fly around the room, giving Oliver some time to gather his thoughts and express himself. 

He settled for the question she knew was ticking over in his mind since he’d noticed her: “why are you here?” His voice was soft, just above a whisper, and he frowned in confusion. 

“If I’d let you down every time you were a jerk to me, you would’ve been dead 10 times” she stated matter-of-factly as she tilted her head to the side, poking him in the chest. “Plus I had this great dress I was sure you were going to like” she winked, her cheeks turning red as she felt Oliver’s gaze on her dark green dress. She was breath-taking. “And it would’ve been a shame to miss on the little speech you gave to the douche.” She continued, playfully. Oliver responded the warmth coursing through his blood with a smile.

“I’m proud of you” she whispered and his feelings echoed his previous words. She definitely could make him feel like he was worthy of all the love in the universe.


	10. Bow and Arrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> based on the prompt: Oliver teaches Felicity archery after she brags how well Diggle is at teaching her self defence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ones who follow my work on tumblr (http://felicitysmoakisaqueen.tumblr.com/) might notice that this one isn't new, I just never published it on AO3.

“Oliver, what is this?” Felicity asked, letting her gaze move around the foundry. Anyone other than her wouldn’t have seen the difference, but she knew the Arrow cave better than anyone else. She’d made it.

The tables and computers had been moved to let more space on the background, and instead of one bow, there were two on the table next to his suit box.

“What is what?” Oliver asked back, genuinely.

“Why did you move my computers? And why is there a second bow? I didn’t know Laurel had a thing for bows and arrows? I mean, everybody has a thing for a bow and arrows since you’ve been going out at night but I thought she preferred Sara’s stick.” She babbled moving the air around with her hands.

“Oh, that…”

Felicity had her back to Oliver, but she could feel how tense he was. She joined her hands together on her front and turned on her heels. She looked like a doll.

Oliver cracked a smile and narrowed his eyes. After a few seconds lost in his thoughts he realized he hadn’t answered to her questions.

“It’s not Laurel’s. She tried that, but it’s not really her forte.”

He let the silence invade the foundry for a beat before he added:

“It’s actually for you.”

Felicity looked confused for a second, and he saw that something crossed her features but he could tell what.

“This…” she gestured her hands around the bow and arrows “is for me?”

“Oliver why would you get me this if you barely let me train self-defence with John, who is, by the way, a very good teacher?”

“Yeah you mentioned that.” He responded bitterly.

He moved to take the smaller bow in his hands, and continued his path until the background.

“Come here”

“Sooooo we’re really doing this I guess…” she replied, slowing making her way towards him, trying to analyse the situation.

“You don’t want to?”

“Oh yes I do! I really do, it’s just that… I’m not sure you do.” She cleared her voice, and stated with confidence: “I do.”

“Please tell me you’re not talking about what it is I think you are?”

Both Oliver and Felicity turned their bodies in the direction the voice came. Felicity took a step back, pulling away from Oliver’s gravity.

“NOOOO Roy, we’re not. Really not. This is just Oliver teaching me archery… I guess.” She looked Oliver with a question in her eyes.

“Good. Because it really sounded like you two were talking about the other thing.” He said, his hands on his hips, and a defiant look.

“What are you doing here anyway? I thought you were seeing Thea today.” Oliver asked with a low voice.

Roy shook his head before he answered: “Yeah I am, I just need something from here”

A minute later he was gone, and Oliver and Felicity were left standing there, lost in each other’s gazes. Oliver refocused on the task and approached Felicity handing the bow to her. She took it, not really knowing what to do with it although it fit perfectly in her hand. She tried to lift it but her whole body was trembling from the strength she had to put in the movement. Oliver stabilized her, placing his right arm alongside hers, covering her right hand, and holding her left arm so it was high enough to shoot straight. Of course, no arrow was on the bow at the time, so when Oliver pulled apart to seek for one, Felicity remembered how to breathe again, but felt strangely empty.

Oliver was back with an arrow and helped her find the good position again.

“Now, it’s just about the breathing and the feeling. You have to steady yourself with a calm breathing, and then, you can focus on what you feel.”

Felicity tried her best to breathe in and out, but the very proximity of Oliver’s body made it impossible.

“Okay, breathe with me.” Oliver whispered.

Felicity felt his chest move, and his hot breath on her ear. She closed her eyes, and tried to keep up with the rhythm.

In.

Out.

“Okay, now you have to feel the bow as an extension of your body. Ground your feet, and feel the material of the bow on your hands.”

“Shoot when you’re ready”

After a beat, she let go of the string, and closed her eyes, enjoying the heat coming from Oliver’s body. When she opened her eyes, she noticed the arrow was exactly where it was supposed to be.

“Well, aren’t you a good teacher? Almost as good as John.” She breathed, not wanting to ruin the moment.

“Almost?”

Oliver took a step back, and Felicity turned towards him. She leaned her head on the side.

“Is it what it was all about?”

Oliver narrowed his eyes. “I…”

“Gosh, I should make you feel jealous a lot more often.”


	11. The Bean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> based on the prompt: I was thinking about Felicity telling Oliver she's pregnant in an original way (with a bean ? A bum in a oven ?..) Bonus : Oliver saying "Thank you" when he hugs her.

Felicity sat at her desk, piles of paperwork spread on the flat and wooden surface, distracted by the buzzing sound of her wandering mind. Legs crossed, right one folded over her left one, she remained a foot away from it, pushing a little further on her left hand, distancing the rolling chair and herself from the work ambient she’d been close to (supposedly, ‘cause in reality, she’d quit any hope of being productive half an hour before that). Her right hand was safely closed, holding a tiny ‘something’ while her other one came to rest on her belly. Her eyes fixated on her right hand as she opened it to reveal a small bean. She sighed as her gaze turned to her belly, her left hand unconsciously contracting at the thought of a human being, not bigger than the bean she’d been carrying around for the past day, growing inside of her. Closing her eyes and right hand at the same time, her mind went for another walk, taking the same path it had since the morning. 

She had to tell him. She needed to tell him. She just wasn’t sure how. Or when. Or where.

‘Diner’s nice’ she’d thought a little earlier, coming home from the office in the middle of the day because of morning sickness (funny how the little one seemed as disoriented as she was because of their special schedule – and by “funny” she meant not-funny-at-all). ‘Diner’s good’ she’d reassured herself. She could cook something nice (that wouldn’t make her insides turn upside down) and before serving him, she could put the bean in his plate. That seemed nice. Except, it would be weird. She wasn’t really going to serve her baby on a plate to Oliver, was she? She had rolled her eyes, shaking off the thought. 

She had yet to find a way to tell him, or a place, or a moment, but as she heard the key in the lock and answered with a glance at the clock, she found herself on her feet immediately, shoving her hands in her home pants’ pockets – but then her brain shot her with a vivid image of a crushed foetus, and she took them back, not quite knowing what to do with them. 

Her body reacted to the smell of her boyfriend and soon she was leaning on the door, proudly watching Oliver racing through the living room, not noticing her. She stayed quiet, leaning her head on the wall, breathing deeply for the first time since she’d left the bed in the morning (since she was the only one actually working during the day, she would leave the room, every morning, watching Oliver sleep soundly, his glorious body tangled with the sheet she’d been on, his arms hugging her pillow, and a frown on his face as he whimpered at the loss of contact. Every morning, she would take a second to breathe in and appreciate the sound of his light snores and relaxed sleep). 

As he hurried and seemed to want to change jackets, she noticed the quick pace he took moving everything he had on his inside pockets to the other ones, his keys, his cell, his wallet, his epinephrine injection… Her mind went wide at that. Oliver wasn’t allergic to anything or else she would know. She felt offended for a slight second before it all made sense. He carried an epinephrine injection for her, in case she needed one. She felt a fond smile spreading on her face, naturally. Just as naturally as it seemed for Oliver to be carrying the injection all the time with him. Before she could stop herself, she was opening her mouth,

“When did you start carrying epinephrine shots?” her voice was croaky and she realized she hadn’t talked in a few hours. 

Oliver stilled at that, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of the surprise of her being here or at being caught. She settled for the first option and teased as she moved forward, taking long steps: “Were your ninja senses taking a nap…” - sliding her harms (her right hand still forming a fist not tight enough to crush the bean) around his waist, his back to her front,- she finished in a whisper, “mister?”.  
She closed her eyes as she breathed in his sweet and masculine scent, her nose crushed against his back. She felt the muscles move and imagined him turning his head in her direction as she felt the warmth of his hands cover hers.

She felt the rumble of his words against his body: “I don’t need them when I’m home” was all he had to answer and her breath caught up in her throat, warmth and bliss overwhelming her; and just like that, she forgot about the bean in her hand and knot in her chest. She then took an indrawn breath, breaking the contact so he could spin to face her. 

She read worry on his eyes when he asked: “Why are you home so early?”

Felicity gulped and tried with a small voice: “’Cause I’m my own boss and I can?”

She grinned, wrapping her arms around his massive body, and tilted her chin in the direction of the chuckle he gave her. She then closed her eyes when Oliver kissed the tip of her nose. She shivered at the feeling (she wondered for a second how long it would take for her to stop reacting at the feeling of his skin on hers; at the sound his lips made on her body; at the warmth of his breath on her neck, and the sensation of his big hands holding hers. They had been together for months now, and the little things still sent her chest bursting alive and a shiver down her spine. She wouldn’t have it any other way.). It was like a beautiful song. An hymn playing over and over again guided by the rhythm and dynamics of their love; the sweetness and lightness of Oliver’s fingers traveling from her lower back to her shoulders; the breve rest, breaking the contact when his hands left her skin from a split second; and the beautiful vibrations of the ensemble, his hands settling on her cheeks, framing her face, his lips crashing onto hers. When their lips parted, they were both left panting, breaths mingled and laboured.

“Yeah”, she thought, tightening her grip on his shirt, “my favorite song”.

She opened her eyes to find his still closed and wondered how she could’ve been so worried about telling him, love and desire so visible on his traits. She let her hands fall to his side, her right hand now feeling the tiny seed again. She pushed on her arms, distancing herself from Oliver, who moaned at the loss and finally opened his eyes. 

“Hum”, she cleared her throat, “you seemed in a hurry… everything okay?” she questioned, a frown on her face.

He mirrored her and struggled finding an answer: “yeah, everything’s fine! I mean…” he let out a smiling breath, and looked above her head for half a second before gazing into her eyes again and assuring her with his words and look that “everything was perfect”.

“Good” she responded, automatically, “because I have something for you”.

Her heart started beating faster in her chest, the thrumming warming her body and accelerating her breath. She inhaled deeply and, before she could think otherwise, extended her hand to him, slowly opening it, leaving on her palm the bean she hadn’t left for the past hours. She watched Oliver’s gaze travel from deep in her soul to her hand, confusion expressed by the slight tilt of his head and wrinkle at the corner of his eyes. 

She waited, observing his every expression, not caring that her hand was shaking. He didn’t seem to notice it either, she thought, since his hand wasn’t securely holding hers. After a few beats, when she thought she couldn’t take it any longer, she saw him open his mouth. She stopped breathing. He closed it, probably not knowing how to react. She had just offered him a bean, after all. How could she expect him to understand? She should’ve done something a little bit more explicit (and by explicit she meant clearer, not… well…). She felt the tears threaten as the bridge of her nose started tightening. She closed her eyes and sensed his gaze travel from her hands to her face, noticing her eyes shut and the single tear rolling down her cheek. She waited for what she knew was coming and as she expected, her skin lit up as the roughness of his thumb wiped the tear away. She leaned into the touch.

“Felicity” he whispered in the tone she liked to think he used only for her. “What… hum… why would…?” he continued.

Her eyelids still closed, she smiled at the love and concern she pictured on his traits. Her left hand came covering his hand, still lingering her face, and she spoke:

“I…” she hesitated with her words, finding that not having any was worse than having too many. “I wanted you to be ready for our next appointment.”

She opened her eyes, blinking away the water a few times, desperate to see him now. “’Cause, hum, you know...” she shrugged and gulped at the same time, “there’s a tiny human being about this size growing up inside of me, and it’s yours, so…” 

Her gaze was fixated on his and she lost herself. She lost herself in him, in the usual complexity that Oliver is, but now very simple feeling that his eyes were expressing. She gasped at the gratefulness she could see, and feel (and hear as she realized his lips were moving, mouthing and then whispering with more and more intensity words she couldn’t understand as her mind was overwhelmed). His right hand came covering hers, gently closing her fingers around the seed, and holding it tightly, but it didn’t feel enough. He let go of her hand and eased her arms around his shoulders before he wrapped himself around her, safely lifting her from the ground. She heard herself cry tears of joy and laugh happily at the spark igniting her insides. She held Oliver, sighing in the crook of his neck and then she heard him, repeating the same words again and again, like a mantra.

“Thank you” he whispered lovingly into her hair. 

And it wasn’t the words, nor the tone, nor the action, but the meaning behind all of that that had her leaning back, a safe grip on the back of his neck, blue eyes searching and meeting his. They gazed into each other, holding their breaths until their foreheads touched.


End file.
